


Level Up

by econator



Category: Formula E RPF, Motorsport RPF
Genre: Alcohol, M/M, Surfing, baby rabies, commitmentphobia, mentions of blowjobs, mentions of frottage, mentions of handjobs
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-02
Updated: 2019-07-02
Packaged: 2020-06-02 21:04:19
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,882
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19449496
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/econator/pseuds/econator
Summary: 09:31 'You look good with a baby.'09:34 'Now that we're not in that  convention centre that blocks the signal and loses half our comms with each other.'The text time stamped 09:37 was a selfie of Robin with some chocolate, captioned 'Enjoying my souvenirs from Switzerland.'09:39 'Just saying you're a good uncle.'09:43 'I mean, that's a cute kid.09:49 'You look cute with a kid.'09:59 'Good surf?'Robin saw the video of Ant with his nephew on Instagram and has The Feels. Antonio's POV





	Level Up

**Author's Note:**

  * For [RobinJuncadella](https://archiveofourown.org/users/RobinJuncadella/gifts).



> Based on events around the Bern ePrix, but entirely fictional.

Ant rinsed the salt and sand off his body before he climbed the stairs to the beach bar at Caiscais. He felt better for a good morning's surfing. Something about being in the waves, his body one with his board, cleared his head after a shitty weekend. Two shitty weekends, if he was honest, since his Le Mans really hadn't gone to plan. He ran his fingers through his hair as he walked across the wooden deck and into the bar. He nodded at Paolo, his friendly bar tender, who handed him a giant glass of water along with his phone and car keys.

'Thanks.'

'No problem. You look like you had a good session.'

'The waves were good today.'

'Someone wants to speak to you,' Paolo said, pointing at Ant's phone. 'That was going crazy the whole time you were out there.'

'Oh, really?' Ant had a sinking feeling that he'd missed important calls from one of his teams or sponsors, and unlocked the screen. He scanned the list of notifications, disappointed that his concern was on point. He held his phone up above the bar. 'Thanks for looking after this while I surfed,' he said, walking out to the deck for privacy as he returned his boss' call. It was nothing to worry about, really. Just updates for the build-up to New York – publicity appearances, sim sessions, all that necessary but tiresome shit.

'Antonio, I want to make sure you'll be back on your game before America,' he said, sounding not-angry-just-disappointed. 'We have a lot riding on that result, and...' He sighed.

Ant frowned. He had a lot riding on that result too, the unconfirmed contract hovering in the back of his mind. 'I know. I've put the run of bad results behind me.'

'It's not just that. We need you to lead the team for Alex too.'

'I know.' Ant thought he kept the annoyance out his voice. 'I'll make more of an effort with him before the race. Spend some time together in the sim.'

'Good.' A short pause. 'Good. Well, I should get going. Time waits for no man. Thanks for calling back promptly.'

The stressed adverb at the end of the sentence felt like a low-key jibe at Ant's tendency to disappear into his private life. 'Sure. Have a good one.'

'Thanks. You too.'

The line went dead. Ant drained his pint of water in one go, wishing it was something stronger. When he went inside for a refill, Paolo looked at his face.

'You want me to hold your phone and keys while you have another surf?' he said as Ant perched on the bar.

'Nah, just another water. It's a pity your alcohol license doesn't cover drinking before noon.'

'That bad, huh?'

'It's just the usual pressure. Pressure that I can forget about when it's just me and a freshly waxed board, but not when I'm speaking to my boss.'

'Are there other calls you can return to make you feel better?' he said as he put a fresh glass of water on the bar.

'Probably. I'm going to get the shitty-feeling stuff out the way first, though. Settle in for the good stuff over a plate of chips and garlic chili prawns.'

Paolo grinned. 'I'll get the kitchen on that.'

Ant scrolled through his notifications, and returned a few messages on his Instagram, telling him sorry for the tough race. Messages from his competitors, which he always read as sounding more than a little smug. He saved Robin's texts for last, glad he had a little collection from him to browse through over his meal. His Dutchie adored him. His Dutchie would make him feel better about reality. Ant thanked Paolo as he put the plate in front of him, and opened his texts from Robin.

09:31 'You look good with a baby.'

09:34 'Now that we're not in that convention centre that blocks the signal and loses half our comms with each other.'

The text time stamped 09:37 was a selfie of Robin with some chocolate, captioned 'Enjoying my souvenirs from Switzerland.'

09:39 'Just saying you're a good uncle.'

09:43 'I mean, that's a cute kid.

09:49 'You look cute with a kid.'

09:59 'Good surf?'

Ant stuffed a few salty chips into his mouth, trying to figure out what Robin wasn't saying as he chewed. The turmoil in his belly was probably due to the call with his boss earlier. Maybe he should've just gone out surfing again. All he'd been aiming for with the nephew video was the fans thinking he was as hot as Tonton André, not making Robin think about him in the context of kids. Shit, could you imagine the fallout for both of their careers if they adopted a baby together? He ate a prawn, enjoying the mild self-punishment of the chilli heat against his tongue. He swallowed, unlocked the screen that had now gone dark, and held it up to Paolo.

'What do you make of this?'

The guy read the text, frowning. He scrolled back through the conversation a bit, and tipped his head to the side. 'He's referencing a photo of your nephew that you didn't send to him?'

'I posted it on Instagram. One of the other drivers is really popular at the moment for being cute with his teammate's partner's kid.'

'So he's binge eating chocolate and stalking your social media?'

'Yeah.'

'And he thinks you look cute with a baby?'

'That's what he said.'

Paolo put the phone on the top of the bar and nudged Ant's arm with his fist. 'What's there to decode? He likes you. A lot. He wants you to feed him chocolate and have babies with him.'

Ant sighed. 'That's what I was worried about.'

'You don't like him back?'

'Of course I like him back. I just...a baby is a big step, you know?'

'How long have you been together?'

Ant paused, staring at his friendly barman. When should he count from? The junior leagues, when all they did was make out and fool around, basically masturbating with each others' hands? Sneaking around sports car paddocks together, enjoying the anonymity of the crowd for stolen kisses and sweet nothings, frotting against each other in the shadows between the trucks in the car park? The early days of Formula E, with the thrill of brushing their relationship off as a bromance while hooking up in private? He'd count from the first time they said “I love you,” to each other, except he'd never said it to Robin while he was awake. Robin had never said it to him. Not that he knew of, at least. He might have whispered it into Ant's hair while he slept off one of Robin's masterful blowjobs. There was no knowing that for sure, though. Ant stuffed a pair of prawns into his mouth and shrugged.

'Are you not properly together, and that's the problem he has with saying “I want your babies,” in as many words?'

'It's complicated,' Ant said around the prawns, washing them down with the remainder of his water.

Paolo refilled his glass from the jug under the counter, and raised an eyebrow expectantly. 'C'mon, man. Give me something to work with here.'

'He's the warm body I rub up against on work weekends. Has been since forever.'

'And now he's caught feelings for you, and you haven't?'

'It's not that I don't have feelings for him,' Ant said a bit too fast. Did he have feelings for Robin, really? Did he have feelings for Robin, or did he have feelings about having those soft, full lips wrapped around his cock, expertly milking the frustrations of the weekend out of him? 'I don't know. You tell me. You've seen me replying his texts after a surf. Do I have feelings for him?'

'You make a little secret smile for someone on your phone. Is that for him, or someone else?'

Ant thought about it for a second. 'No, that's definitely for him.'

'So?'

'A baby is a big step for someone I've used as little more than an extra pair of hands for masturbating since we were teenagers. A mouth that...' Ant looked into the amused face in front of him. He didn't want to disclose that. Not here. Maybe not ever.

Paolo pointed to Ant's phone. 'Unlock that for me.'

'What are you going to do?'

'Nothing. I just want to read the texts again.'

Ant unlocked his phone, and handed it to him. He took it, stepped back from the bar, and typed something. Ant stood on the foot support railing, flailing desperately in the direction of Paolo, trying to retrieve his phone and maybe his dignity without disturbing his food or drink. Paolo stepped back towards Ant, and gave him his phone back. With a sinking feeling in his belly, Ant glanced at the screen.

11:47 'I had a good surf, thanks, Handsome. My sister needs a babysitter tonight. You also will look cute with a baby if you want.'

Ant groaned, feeling betrayed. 'We don't do the visiting thing. The family thing. We...' _We just hook up on weekends_ , is what he wanted to say. He ate a few chips to quell the churn in his stomach.

'You didn't before he told you he wanted a baby with you. Now it's different.'

Ant swallowed his chips, moved his plate aside, and rested his head on his forearms. There's no way he'd ever recover from this. Paolo patted his shoulder. He chose to not respond to the man who'd betrayed him by inviting his non-boyfriend to babysit his nephew. He didn't know if his sister had plans for the night, or if she'd be open to having the night off parenting. She probably would, even if it was only to take a bath in peace. But there's no way Robin would fly from the Netherlands to come and babysit with him. Babysitting was an activity that, by definition, should never include blowjobs or driving at irresponsible speeds. The two things they did together. The two things they were good at, since neither was good at talking about feelings. In the distance, a church bell chimed. He heard liquid being poured, followed by the faint clunk of a glass being placed next to his elbow.

'Port on the house, to celebrate the turn of midday, and the start of our alcohol license.'

Ant looked up, downed the port, and went back to stewing in his fear of rejection.

'More chips? The blood sugar will help.'

'No.'

No amount of blood sugar would help this feeling. Of that, Ant was certain. He almost fell off his stool when his phone buzzed on the counter next to him. Paolo held it out to him.

'The preview says it's a text from your man with the pouty mouth,' he said, smiling the self-satisfied smile of someone who knew that his meddling had achieved the desired results. Bastard had read the text before the screen went dark. Ant unlocked it. Barely. His hands were shaking so hard he struggled to hold the device.

12:04 'My flight lands at 17:20. I'm counting on you to pick me up.'


End file.
